I think that I shall never knowWhy I am thus, and I am so.Around me, other girls inspireIn men the rush and roar of fire,The sweet transparency of glass,The tenderness of April grass,The durability of granite;But me- I don't know how to plan it.The lads I've met in Cupid's deadlockWere- shall we say?- born out of wedlock.They broke my heart, they stilled my song,And said they had to run along,Explaining, so to sop my tears,First came their parents or careers.But ever does experienceDeny me wisdom, calm, and sense!Though she's a fool who seeks to captureThe twenty-first fine, careless rapture,I must go on, till ends my rope,Who from my birth was cursed with hope.A heart in half is chaste, archaic;But mine resembles a mosaic-The thing's become ridiculous!Why am I so? Why am I thus?